


Lay Your Weary Head to Rest

by sarjus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Fainting, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-07-15 16:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16067321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarjus/pseuds/sarjus
Summary: Micaiah faints and Sothe takes care of her. (Takes place during Part III Chapters 11-12)Platonic Micaiah & Sothe(Rated T for minor language)





	Lay Your Weary Head to Rest

**Author's Note:**

> There are barely any Micaiah-centric fics out there, and that makes me sad.  
> This is my first (posted) Fire Emblem fic, so please be kind to me. I hope I didn't stray too far from their characterizations! 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

“Pompous fool...”

Micaiah sighs and turns back to face Sothe, brushing her bangs out of her face. Another retreat was not what she had been aiming for. But at the same time… She’s tired. More than tired, really. She can’t imagine having to stay on the field for more than a couple minutes, so she’s glad for the chance to catch her breath.

Sothe breathes out a sigh in joint resignation. “Well, I’ll go order the retreat then.”

Micaiah lets out a soft hum of affirmation when suddenly the world spins like a top. She reaches out a hand to grab Sothe’s retreating figure, but his scarf slips through her hand and she crashes face first into the hard soil.

“Micaiah?!” Sothe is at her side in an instant, hand warm and comforting on her back. It makes her want to give in to the creeping darkness that surrounds her. Her eyes blink slowly as she rolls over, taking in Sothe’s blurry, concerned face.

“I...I’m sorry, I…”

She’s feeling so out of breath, but she hardly even moved during the battle. And why does her hand feel like it’s moving through water? She finally takes a hold of Sothe’s hand, and puts all her energy into sitting upright. When Sothe realizes what Micaiah is attempting to do, he gently pushes her shoulder, hand slipping out of her weak grasp.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back!” he shouts at her as he heads straight for camp. Before he leaves Micaiah’s sight, he glances back. She can’t see his face from this distance, but his shoulders are definitely tense. Micaiah drags an arm over her eyes, giving her pounding head sanctuary from the sun’s glaring beams. She hates making Sothe worry, especially after she left him those years ago…

“What’s happening? I was doing so well...for awhile...I feel like...fog is clouding my mind…” Micaiah attempts to clear her mind and look into the future. Nothing too distant, simply a brief skip of time. Her mind is so fuzzy, though, that she just can’t see anything at all. Not what she’ll eat for dinner, or when Sothe will return. It’s all one big, blank nothing. “Am I...losing my powers?”

At that thought, she chuckles, despite the breathlessness. “Funny… I always wished that I didn’t have this farsight… It often feels like such a burden…But this clouded vision seems so strange. Now, I miss the clarity… Ironic, isn’t it, Yune?” She peeks an eye out from under her arm in search of the little bird. She perches in a tree nearby, constantly moving her gaze from Micaiah to camp.

Micaiah manages to lift an arm towards Yune and lets out a low and raspy whistle. Yune glides from the tree and onto Micaiah’s hand, gazing at her with a startling intensity. Micaiah tries to comfort the bird with a small smile as her hand falls to her stomach and she loses consciousness.

When she comes to again, there are arms wrapped around her waist and hands on her arms. She’s being moved around like a doll. Her head is pounding even more than before and she regretfully squints her eyes open before quickly shutting them closed with a small groan.

“Micaiah?”

That’s Sothe. He came back for her. She was beginning to worry that the nothingness in her head meant he wouldn’t return. She’d be left to lie on the ground forever.

“Micaiah, of course I came back!”

Sothe can read minds now? Maybe spending so much time around her caused some of her power to rub off on him. Not like she can read minds word-for-word, they’re really just feelings—

“Micaiah, what in the name of the goddess are you mumbling about?”

“Sothe, don’t mind her. I believe these are the lingering effects of whatever has come over her. Let us get her to Laura as quickly as possible.”

Oh? That voice is much deeper than Sothe’s. Of course. The other pair of hands. Tauroneo? How embarrassing. Surely she has no need of leaning on him.

The tingling in her limbs subsides, and Micaiah feels some of her strength returning. She shifts her weight from Sothe’s shoulders, more or less standing upright on her own two feet. Micaiah turns to the sound of Sothe’s voice and finally forces herself to keep her eyes open.

“It’s all right. I can walk from here.”

Sothe’s eyebrows shoot so far up, Micaiah is a little worried they’ll fly off his face.

“Oh? Micaiah, you know I never doubt you. I’m very confident in your abilities. But how about you let me help you to the healers’ tent this time, all right?” He reaches for her wrist, but she snatches it away.

“It was just a little dizzy spell, I’m fine, Sothe.” To prove it, she pulls ahead, Tauroneo and Sothe trailing just behind her, and puts all her effort into marching effortlessly. This makes it all the more embarrassing when she pitches forward again.

“Micaiah!” Sothe catches her by the arms before she can face plant again, but her knees still scrape the ground.

Her hands go to her aching knees and come away wet. She gazes at her palms in a calm trance, shifting her hands this way and that.

“Shit, shit, shit! Tauroneo! Go ahead and let them know we’re almost there.”

Suddenly, Sothe is crouching down in front of her and wiggling his hands. “Come on, climb on my back. I’ll take you there myself.”

Micaiah ponders the sight for a moment before reluctantly draping herself on Sothe’s back. He shifts her so he has a good hold on her legs without aggravating the fresh cuts on her knees, and Micaiah buries her head into the crook of his neck. He’s so warm. She didn’t realize how chilly she was feeling. The rhythmic movement of Sothe’s gait lulls her back into a light slumber.

〜・〜

Sothe feels Micaiah’s hands loosen around his neck, and he hefts her up, trying to keep a stronger grip on her. He’s not sure if she keeps passing out or is just falling asleep extremely easily--either way, it can’t mean anything good. He increases his pace, eager to get to Laura.

When he arrives, everyone is hovering over him, asking questions and trying to pull Micaiah off of his back. He shrugs them off and says, “Where should I put her?”

“Over here, Sothe.” Laura cuts through the crowd and practically shoves half of them out of the tent. Their concern is appreciated, but the prior Dawn Brigade members can come on a little strong. She leads Sothe to a cot in the corner and rests the bowl she’s holding down on the table. She hands him a clean cloth and some gauze after he carefully places Micaiah down.

“You can clean up her knees while I check her over with my staff.” She turns to leave, but then pauses and throws a glance back over at Micaiah. “Do me a favor and keep her awake as well? We need to make sure nothing is too seriously wrong before she can rest.”

“Got it.” Sothe gently shakes Micaiah and whispers her name. She hadn’t been too difficult to rouse earlier, and they hadn’t even meant to, then. Micaiah groans and tries to roll over, but Sothe stops her and props her up on the pillows a bit. She rubs at her eyes with the backs of her hands and gazes at Sothe with a face devoid of emotion. It’s concerning, seeing her like this.

“Hey.”

She stares at him a while longer before answering back. “Hello.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks, before shifting his chair so he can get a better look at her knees. He dips the cloth in the bowl of water Laura brought and begins to lightly dab at the bright red cuts.

“Weird,” Micaiah says. She pauses before continuing, “I can’t see anything.”

That gets Sothe’s attention. He stares into her eyes, examining her face closely. Her eyes look fine, but she was complaining about her head earlier. Maybe when she hit the ground--

“Not like that,” she elaborates. “I can physically see. I just can’t… see… My visions. They’re gone.”

“Like, _gone_ gone?” Sothe asks. He’s never quite understood her visions, but he’s never questioned them. It’s hard to question something that’s saved your life just about a thousand times.

Micaiah gives a small nod. “Do you think…”

She doesn’t continue that train of thought, and Sothe almost lets it go, but she’s biting her lip, and there’s a little wrinkle between her brow. Something about this is clearly concerning her.

“Do I think what?”

She puts a hand to her head and sighs, and mumbles something, shaking her head.

“What? Micaiah, I can’t hear you.” Sothe has never seen her like this before. She’s fading in and out of lucidity, and it’s hard to get much out of her. It makes him wish he had her gifts, so he could take all of her pain.

She doesn’t continue where she left off. She leans her head back to rest against the soft pillows and closes her eyes. Sothe continues in his work of cleaning the dirt and blood away from her hands and knees before bringing out a vulnerary.

Laura returns before Sothe can pick up his interrogation again, which is probably for the best. Her skin is flushed, and she winces slightly at the sting of the vulnerary. The sound of Laura’s hurried footsteps alerts Micaiah to the presence of the young healer, and she opens her eyes once more and straightens her back.

“Sorry,” Laura pants, leaning over her knees to catch her breath. “Someone used the last of my staff, so I had to run to the shop, and-- Oh nevermind, that.” Laura turns to Micaiah with a smile and grabs her chin, turning her head this way and that. “Your head doesn’t look scratched one bit, and your eyes are a tad glassy, but relatively clear, which is good. Head injuries are the worst to deal with.”

“She fainted out of the blue, and she’s been in and out of it since then,” Sothe says. He side-eyes Micaiah and says, “She seems all right now, but on the way here she was mumbling weirdly. And she keeps complaining about her head. Are you sure she didn’t hit her head, or…”

“Not to worry, Sothe. I’ll check her over with my staff. But the signs don’t indicate head trauma at all. In fact,” Laura puts her staff down and rests the back of her hand against Micaiah’s forehead. She hums a bit and picks her staff back up. Holding it in two hands, the top begins to softly glow, radiating a calming warmth that even Sothe can feel from the other side of the bed. Laura hovers the staff over Micaiah and runs it along her body.

Sothe’s foot taps impatiently. He really doesn’t want to interrupt Laura when she’s so focused, but he just wants to know how Micaiah is already. He’s about to say something when the light goes out and Laura sighs in relief.

“Micaiah, when was the last time you got a good night’s rest?”

The question startles Micaiah out of dazed trance. “Um…”

Sothe thinks back on the past couple days. He’s gone to sleep earlier than Micaiah every single night, and yet she’s always been awake by the time he got up, working on strategy and managing supplies. Sothe gives Micaiah a knowing stare, which she doesn’t return.

“That’s what I thought,” Laura says. “Micaiah, you’re facing symptoms of severe exhaustion. The fainting, incoherence, headaches--you even have a light fever. You’ve been working yourself too much.”

Micaiah keeps her eyes averted from Sothe. She must know he’s going to lecture her. It’s funny how their roles ended up reversed like this. Sothe can recall countless times where he sat in Micaiah’s place.

Laura glances between the two of them and lets out a small sigh. “Well, I’ll let you get your rest, Micaiah. You’re on strict bed rest for the next couple days, and that means no working in bed, as well. Sothe, I imagine you will make sure she adheres to this?”

Sothe nods, refusing to take his gaze away from Micaiah.

“Perfect,” Laura says. “Oh! And she should probably eat something before she goes back to sleep. Otherwise, she’ll wake up feeling even worse than she already is.”

“I can go find something for her to eat,” Sothe says, reluctantly standing up. “I have some things I’d like to grab anyways.”

Laura smiles at him and takes his seat, which makes him feel better about leaving. Micaiah still looks upset, and now slightly guilty—maybe he shouldn’t be too hard on her. He doesn’t want her to feel like she can’t lean on him. That’s why they’re in this mess to begin with.

〜・〜

When he gets back, Micaiah has changed into soft, white robes, and Laura is still seated at her side, chatting Micaiah’s ear off.

Sothe taps her on the shoulder and the young healer nearly leaps out of her seat.

“Oh! Sothe, you’re so quiet all the time. You’re going to make me ill as well!” Laura pats Micaiah on the hand and says, “I’ll be back to check on you later. Rest well.”

Sothe puts his things down and moves to take Laura’s seat, when Micaiah stops him, hand curling around his wrist. He stares down at her and she shifts over in the bed and pats the mattress.

Sothe doesn’t respond, but he takes his boots off and slips into the bed, wrapping an arm around Micaiah’s shoulders and handing her a bowl of fruit.

“Eat up. You need your strength.”

Her head falls to his shoulder and she breathes deeply. “I’m not feeling very hungry at the moment.”

Sothe shifts, trying to get a look at her face, but she’s tucked herself away. He gently removes the bowl from her grasp and places it on the table. “Do you want to talk?”

She shakes her head and adjusts so that her ear is placed over Sothe’s heart. He takes deep, even breaths, hoping the steady beat of his heart will lull Micaiah into the same rhythm. He places a hand on her head, gently combing his fingers through the silver strands.

They sit in silence for several minutes, until Micaiah speaks up once more.

“Am I still useful without my gifts?”

Micaiah whispers so quietly, that Sothe almost misses it. His hand pauses in her hair, but he forces himself to continue. He needs to stay calm right now. No matter how angry it makes him to hear that, Micaiah needs him to be level headed right now.

“Is that what this is about?” he asks.

Micaiah hums, and Sothe can feel the soft vibrations through his chest. “Only partially. I… I worry. About Daein, about this war….about you, of course.”

Sothe snorts at that. “I told you, I’m not a child anymore, Micaiah.”

She finally looks up at him. Her eyes are watery, but no tears have fallen. “It’s true… you’re no child.” She rests a hand on his cheek and lays her head back down. “When did that happen? When did you go and get so big?”

Sothe can’t help but slip at that. He’s mostly forgiven Micaiah for leaving him those years ago, but it’s hard to fully let go of the resentment. “Probably when you left and I ended up under Ike’s command.”

Sothe feels Micaiah full body flinch, and regret pools in his gut. “Micaiah, no, I’m—“

“It’s true, though.”

Sothe’s lips press into a thin line. He messed up. Why did he say that, and why now of all times, goddammit.

“It’s why I can’t stop myself from fighting this fruitless war. I can’t abandon anyone else. But…I’m not strong enough to do this without my gifts. Without that power, I’m no Maiden of Dawn. Just… Micaiah…”

“And what’s so wrong with that?”

“Well, I…” Micaiah trails off. “Just Micaiah can’t run an army, Sothe.”

“First of all, I know I’ve said this a million times, but you don’t have to do this—and second,” Sothe continues, before Micaiah can butt in and tell him that ‘she has to, it’s her job’, “Micaiah, you’ve been in control of this army the whole time. Sure, your visions help. But on the battlefield, do you look into the future before fighting even a single soldier?”

“Well, no, but…”

“That’s because you don’t need to. You’re more than a few tricks up your sleeve, Micaiah.” Micaiah doesn’t say anything for so long, that Sothe thinks she’s finally dropped the topic.

“Pelleas and the people don’t know that,” Micaiah starts. “If I’m in a war meeting and Pelleas asks me what I see, what am I supposed to say? You trust my guidance because you’ve known me for so long. I don’t have that connection with Pelleas.”

Sothe scoffs. “If Pelleas can’t appreciate you without your gifts, then he shouldn’t have you with them.”

“Sothe,” Micaiah says in a warning tone. Something about Pelleas has always rubbed Sothe the wrong way, and he lets Micaiah know at every opportunity. Edward teased him once that Sothe was jealous about how close Pelleas and Micaiah were getting. But it isn’t that. Micaiah and Sothe are family. He knows no one could come between them.  

“It’s true, and I’m not backing down from this.”

Micaiah finally lets out a soft chuckle. It’s really more of an exhalation than anything else, but if Sothe has finally cheered her up a bit, then he counts that as a win.

“Anyway, this all speculation, Micaiah. You heard Laura. You’re exhausted. I’m sure once you rest up, things will return to normal.”

“I suppose so…”

Sothe leans over to the table and grabs the bowl of fruit again, firmly placing it in Micaiah’s hands. “I know you’re not hungry, but you do have to eat something. If you really want to recover quickly and work with Pelleas, then this is the first step you have to take.”

Micaiah sighs, but doesn’t push the bowl out of her hands. Sothe helps her sit up, but stays seated on the bed.

“Thank you, Sothe. All my favorite fruits, of course,” Micaiah says, as she picks at the food.

Sothe reaches for the floor while Micaiah eats, and pulls up her old scarf. It’s faded and torn in some corners, but Sothe knows it brings her comfort to wear it. It’s a piece of home that travels and holds the stories of their many adventures.

“I also stopped by your tent to grab a few things, since you’ll probably be here awhile,” Sothe says, wrapping Micaiah up like it’s a blanket. It’s certainly large enough to be one.

She pushes her face into the fabric and breathes deeply with a smile. “Are you sure you’re not a mind reader, Sothe?”

He takes the empty bowl back from Micaiah and laughs. “Do I need to call Laura back over here?”

Micaiah hums and shakes her head, tucking her arm in Sothe’s. “No… I think I’d rather go to sleep, now.” She looks up at him, examining his face. “You should get some rest, too. You look worn out.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhmm. Let’s nap right here, all right?”

Sothe pushes himself down under the covers until his head is resting on the pillow next to Micaiah’s.

“Sounds like a good plan. Sweet dreams, Micaiah.”

“Sweet dreams, Sothe.”

**Author's Note:**

> I draw a lot of Fire Emblem. You can find me [here](https://charbartt.tumblr.com).


End file.
